<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>make yourself a home by galateaGalvanized</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977645">make yourself a home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/galateaGalvanized/pseuds/galateaGalvanized'>galateaGalvanized</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:43:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/galateaGalvanized/pseuds/galateaGalvanized</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“And, Cody? Thank you for your hospitality.”</p><p>“Any time, sir,” Cody says, choking on his words when Bones chooses that moment to tighten the bindings around his ribs. He takes a careful breath before saying, “Just, please knock, next time.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s grin widens. “It’s a promise.” </p><p><b>Or</b>, four times Obi-Wan knocked on Cody’s door, and one time Cody knocked on his.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>796</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>make yourself a home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up after an injury is never pleasant, but there are some things that make it better: waking up in his own bed, waking up in his blacks instead of his armor, and waking up to the bittersweet smell of Eukarian tea. The first two are rare; the latter is unprecedented.</p><p>“General,” Cody says before he even opens his eyes.</p><p>“Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and there’s a smile in his voice.</p><p>Cody starts to turn over onto his side, but a sudden clamor of pain from his ribcage forces him to reconsider. He cranes his neck as far to his right as he can instead, and it’s just enough to see Obi-Wan raising an eyebrow at him from over the edge of a steaming mug. He’s sitting at Cody’s desk, and there’s an even bigger stack of flimsi and data pads laying across the black plastic than usual.</p><p>“Sir,” Cody croaks, and then he immediately has to cough to clear the dust from his lungs. “Sir, did the 501st requisition your office?”</p><p>“Pardon?” Obi-Wan says, surprised out of his usual all-knowing calm. He follows Cody’s pointed glance to the desk and has to laugh. “Oh, I—no. Anakin does not yet have that power. I’m simply multi-tasking: finishing up paperwork while overseeing your convalescence. I thought you’d appreciate the efficiency.”</p><p>Cody tries to sit up again, and every one of his abdominal muscles plucks at the tender bones of his ribs. He’d fractured one of them, he remembers, but Bones had said that the rest of the pain was just heavy bruising. Well, heavy bruising isn’t going to stop him from sitting upright when speaking to his general. He closes his eyes to push through the pain, and suddenly there’s an arm behind his back lifting him into a seated position. He blinks in shock; he hadn’t even heard Obi-Wan move.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” he says, embarrassed by his own weakness. “But please, you don’t have to do this. You exhausted yourself holding Sherma Bridge against the artillery; you should be resting.”</p><p>Obi-Wan simply smiles and hands him a mug of tea, still warm. The steam curls delightfully across his face, and there’s a splash of milk swirled into the murky green. Cody takes a cautious sip, and Obi-Wan’s smile widens when Cody makes a soft sound of approval.</p><p>“Shouldn’t I be chastising you, and not the other way around? You're the one with fractured ribs,” Obi-Wan says, sitting back down.</p><p>“With all due respect, sir, you're the one hiding from General Skywalker in my bedroom.”</p><p>The barest hint of a blush unfurls itself at the very edge of Obi-Wan’s robes, and Cody watches its progress as he would an oncoming army. Direct hit, he thinks absently.</p><p>“Yes, well,” Obi-Wan admits. “I am, at that. Goodness, Cody, I apologize. You’re meant to be resting, and here I am keeping you up.”</p><p>It’s classic Obi-Wan: misdirecting through excessive politeness. He stands in a single fluid motion, already turning to gather up the stacks of flimsy on the desk, and that’s not what Cody had wanted at all.</p><p>“Sir, it’s fine,” he says, and something in his voice makes Obi-Wan pause. It might very well be the painkillers. “You can stay. You should stay.”</p><p>At Obi-Wan’s questioning look, he gropes for some reason—for some truth. “If you’re here, I don’t have to worry about you throwing yourself off another building.”</p><p>“It was only the once,” Obi-Wan says, but he sits back down with a rueful chuckle.</p><p>For a few long minutes, peaceful quiet settles over the room. Obi-Wan picks back up his reports and Cody sips his tea, grateful for the warmth soothing his smoke-irritated throat. The soft slide of Obi-Wan’s fingers across the data pads is familiar, and Cody knows that a matching pile of urgent paperwork is waiting in his own inbox. The will be distribution mandates for ammunition, food, and fuel; requests for expected travel times and refueling stops; and repair and maintenance logs for the Negotiator. It’s the little things that account for big victories, and experience has taught him that battles are more often won through logistics than the hearts of men.</p><p>“Will you pass me a data pad, sir?” Cody asks once his fingers start to itch from doing nothing while his general works beside him. “Watching you work while I just sit here is bad for my blood pressure.”</p><p>“You need to <em>rest</em>, Cody.”</p><p>“I could do it restfully,” Cody says, and when Obi-Wan still looks uncertain, he goes in for the kill. “Sir, if you give me work, I won’t ask why you’re avoiding General Skywalker.”</p><p>It’s a minor but real victory when Obi-Wan hands him a data pad without further protest.</p><p>They work in tandem, trading only a few words as the tea cools and the pieces of flimsy on Cody’s desk slowly reduce in number. At last, Bones knocks on Cody’s door to replace the spent bacta patches and check the bindings around Cody's ribs.</p><p>Obi-Wan stands with his usual grace, excusing himself from the room so Bones can work. Once he's gathered the remaining data pads to his chest, he turns to smile cheerily at Cody as Bones tuts over his handiwork.</p><p>“It’s long since been time for me to face the music,” Obi-Wan admits from the doorway. He pauses, and there is amusement and gratitude twinkling in his eyes when he looks back. “And Cody? Thank you for your hospitality.”</p><p>“Any time, sir,” Cody says, choking on his words when Bones chooses that moment to tighten the bindings around his ribs. He takes a careful breath before saying, “Just, please knock, next time.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s grin widens. “It’s a promise.”</p><p>-—-</p><p>Cody isn’t exactly dreading the knock, per se, but he’s still immediately wary when he hears a gentle double-tap on his door. Any brother would have given it three hard raps, so he isn’t surprised when he signals the door to open and sees his general on the threshold.</p><p>“Can I come in?” Obi-Wan asks, and Cody gestures his assent. The waves of relief that roll off Obi-Wan as he steps inside, though, takes Cody straight from ‘wary’ to ‘on-guard’.</p><p>“Is something wrong, sir?” Cody asks, standing up from his desk and letting his hand fall to the DC-17 strapped to his thigh.</p><p>“No, no, my apologies, Cody; I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Obi-Wan says quickly, gesturing for Cody to sit back down. “It’s only Anakin. He’s being… a bit difficult again. I don’t suppose Captain Rex has mentioned anything regarding Anakin and a certain senator?”</p><p>Captain Rex has, in fact, mentioned many things regarding Anakin and a certain senator, but Cody isn’t going to betray Rex’s confidence for anything less than galactic security. He nods a cautious assent, though, and Obi-Wan waves a hand through the air as if to call the matter settled.</p><p>“I’m not here to ask you for information,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody breathes an internal sigh of relief. “I’m here to ask the Force what I should do about the information I <em>have</em>. Honestly, I just need an hour for meditation, but I haven’t been able to get even a minute of peace while the 501st is with us.”</p><p>Cody looks around his quarters; he has a bunk, a half-desk in the corner half-covered in neat stacks of flimsy, and a closet approximately big enough to hide General Yoda, if General Yoda needed hiding. As a commanding officer, he has far more space than most—and a private refresher, thank the little gods—but he would hesitate to call them spacious. Especially when compared to the relative luxury of a general’s quarter.</p><p>“And you came here, sir?” he asks, masking his disbelief as politely as he can.</p><p>Obi-Wan’s answering grin is full of mischief.</p><p>“I think even Anakin would hesitate to interrupt a meeting between us in your private quarters,” he says. “And besides, if I may be so bold, you have a very calm presence in the Force, Commander. You’re like a smooth stone in a flowing river: grounded, steady, but parting the waters instead of chopping them. Would you mind, terribly, if I stayed?”</p><p>“I mind not at all,” Cody says, and he means it.</p><p>Obi-Wan gracefully folds himself into a cross-legged position on the floor in the corner across from Cody’s desk, just within Cody’s line of sight. Cody keeps an eye on him until he sees Obi-Wan’s breathing flatten out to only a few breaths per minute, and, with a mental shrug, he gets back to work.</p><p>He works steadily, burning his way through engagement reports and troop maneuvers with the single-minded focus that earned him command of the 7th Sky Corps, and after that, his place as General Kenobi’s right-hand man. It’s exactly what he’s been trained for, and there’s a quiet joy to being able to do a job well—especially the job of keeping as many brothers as possible housed, fed, and alive.</p><p>In all honesty, the rhythmic sound of Obi-Wan’s slow, deep breathing is a comforting noise in the background of his quarters. It reminds him of the barracks on Kamino, with all of his brothers in their bunks like stacks of Lincoln Logs in row after neat row. At night, the air circulators were a faint buzz beneath the sound of thousands of inhales and exhales, and each one was a sweet note in a steady, living chorus. Cody doesn’t exactly miss those tight quarters, and he gets plenty of crowded sleeping conditions in the field, but. It’s pleasant, is all.</p><p>Pleasant, also, to not have to say anything, and to still be understood.</p><p>After an hour passes, Obi-Wan unfolds himself, unfurling in a single motion from cross-legged on the floor to standing. Cody watches out of the corner of his eye as Obi-Wan’s graceful, clean lines transform themselves from one shape to another, as beautifully as Shaak Ti would fold a perfect paper crane.</p><p>Then Obi-Wan puts his hands on his hips and leans backwards, and the resulting crack shatters the silence in three deafening pops.</p><p>Cody can't help but snort at the sound, and he stifles a laugh at the embarrassment on Obi-Wan's face when Obi-Wan turns to him in surprise.</p><p>"Sorry, sir," Cody offers, grinning.</p><p>"No, goodness, I—I’m sorry, I nearly forgot you were here," Obi-Wan says, as close to flustered as he gets. "Or, well. I forgot that I and my back might need to refrain from making excessive noise."</p><p>"It's no trouble, General," Cody says. "Honestly, you've reminded me that I need to get up and stretch myself."</p><p>He gets up to use the 'fresher and is a little surprised to find Obi-Wan sitting back on the floor, cross-legged again but with his eyes open and contemplative. Cody falls into parade rest out of habit, somewhat unwilling to take a seat in front of his general without being told.</p><p>"Cody," Obi-Wan says, exasperated. "Please don't <em>literally</em> stand on ceremony in your own room. You’re making me feel terribly guilty for imposing."</p><p>"Of course, sir," Cody says, relaxing slightly.</p><p>"Speaking of imposing, though, I did want to ask: have you ever meditated before? Would like to try?" Obi-Wan is looking up at him with only an open warmth on his face. The blanket acceptance of Cody's choice either way makes the decision harder, somehow.</p><p>"I haven't," he says, because it's hard to go wrong with the truth when speaking to Obi-Wan. "But, sir, you must know that we clones aren't Force-sensitive."</p><p>"Oh, I'm well aware," Obi-Wan says, wry. "Trust me; it's the only reason I haven't yet managed to promote you to general."</p><p>He laughs at whatever stricken expression Cody can't hide fast enough. "Oh, don't worry, Cody; you're safe for now. But you don't have to be a Jedi to benefit from meditation. I think even a marshal commander might find a use for emotional calm and mental clarity."</p><p>When Cody still hesitates, Obi-Wan just glances up at him from underneath his lashes, smiling as if letting Cody in on a secret. "It's also quite useful for not trying to strangle annoying little brothers."</p><p>Cody knows, in his heart, in his soul, in the part of him that will keep marching alongside his fallen brothers even when this body has long since stopped, that Obi-Wan's natural state is one of flirtation. That doesn't stop a flush from rising, unbidden and blotchy, up his neck. More to avoid having to reply than wanting to meditate, he sits down next to Obi-Wan, crossing his legs with an effort.</p><p>“There’s no need to be nervous, Commander,” Obi-Wan says, clearly misreading Cody’s sudden trepidation. “Just focus on your breathing.”</p><p>“If a swarm of malbeks can’t make me break a sweat, sir, sitting on a floor with you isn’t going to cut it,” Cody lies.</p><p>Obi-Wan hums his agreement and closes his eyes in a clear invitation for Cody to do the same. At first, every atom of Cody’s being is focused on what Obi-Wan is doing: how he’s breathing, how his shoulders curl into his chest ever so slightly, how his knees are almost flat against the sides of his feet. Eventually, though, Cody’s mind drifts to the work still waiting for him. He’s been working with Rex on a new strategy for the situation on Eukaris; the Eukarian nations have had a very tenuous peace for the last ten year, and the fragility of that peace and their proximity to Separatist space have given every last politician a hair trigger. He knows that a few dangerous Separatist cells have built a base in the planet’s religious sector, but they still haven’t—</p><p>“Cody, come back,” Obi-Wan says, gently chiding. “Be present. Let your thoughts come, but then let them go. Like clouds in the sky.”</p><p>If Jedi can read minds, Cody’s karked. He’s been too close to Obi-Wan for too long. Warily, he turns towards Obi-Wan with one eyebrow raised, thinking desperately of nothing at all.</p><p>“No, I can’t actually read your mind,” Obi-Wan says, which does the opposite of convincing Cody that’s the truth. His immediate disbelief makes Obi-Wan break into a grin. “Oh, Cody, I’m serious. I only felt your mind starting to sharpen in the Force; it was nothing so specific as topics or words.”</p><p>That’s a relief, at least. And, now that he thinks about it, Cody is fairly sure that the masters on Kamino would have told him if the Jedi were mindreaders. Even if not the Cuy’val Dar, Jango definitely would have.</p><p>“My apologies, then, General,” he says, shoving his panic back down. “For disturbing your own meditation.”</p><p>“No, no, it’s fine. More than fine, actually; this is nice. I miss teaching,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody can hear the wistfulness threaded through every word. “Plus, it's been easier to find peace with you here. I'm always worried about being caught off guard. This way, if the alarm bells start ringing, at least I won’t have to look far for my commander.”</p><p>It’s easy to see how Obi-Wan has earned his reputation as a brilliant negotiator, considering how honey-sweet his words are. The worst of it is how many of Obi-Wan’s statements are either genuinely meant, directed at people trying to kill him, or both. Still, that line of thinking is unproductive at best. With a stifled sigh, Cody turns inward, trying to envision his thoughts as clouds drifting across a clear blue sky, unhurried and unimportant. Hiding his wrist from Obi-Wan as he does so, he also sets a timer; he really only has another ten minutes to spare.</p><p>Unfortunately, eight minutes in, the alarm bells start ringing.</p><p>He cracks an eye open to glare at Obi-Wan, who is staring aghast at the receiver flashing red and blaring over the doorway.</p><p>“This is not my fault,” Obi-Wan says, before Cody can even open his mouth.</p><p>Cody grins, already strapping on his gear and reaching for his bucket.</p><p>“Sure, General,” he says, unable to help himself. “But at least your commander’s right here.”</p><p>-—-</p><p>It starts happening more often: two soft knocks, and a melodic call for permission to come in. To anyone that hadn’t spent almost every waking hour of the past two years working alongside General Kenobi, it would seem perfectly accidental.</p><p>To Cody, it’s starting to seem suspicious. He knows for a fact that Obi-Wan’s quarters are more than four times the size of his own, with a real bed, a few small plants, and a little electric stove that only ever gets used to make tea. The desk there is made of wood instead of plastic, and Cody has begun to wonder if it’s getting about as much use as the stove.</p><p>Thus, when two soft knocks wake him up at 0300 standard, he isn’t surprised to see his general on the other side of the door. He is, however, surprised to see his general dressed in Republic-issued regulation blacks. Honestly, Cody hadn’t known there were blacks that would fit anyone who wasn’t 1.8 meters tall and within spitting distance of 90 kilos. Though, now that he thinks about it—looks for it—he and Obi-Wan are of a height.</p><p>“Cody, I know it’s your job to worry,” Obi-Wan says, and his hands are raised in the universal gesture of placation, “but in this one instance, there is no cause for concern.”</p><p>“With all due respect, sir,” Cody says, and he fights not to sound a little strangled. “<em>You</em> are a cause for concern.”</p><p>Obi-Wan grins. “Can I come in?”</p><p>With a sigh, Cody opens the door and ushers his general through it, checking the length of the hallway twice for pursuers before he locks it behind him. Once inside, Obi-Wan all but collapses into Cody’s desk chair. In the new light, Cody can see the beginnings of a bruise blossoming across his jaw and the sweat darkening his copper hair into a deeper red.</p><p>“General,” he says, as carefully as he can, and waits.</p><p>When Obi-Wan looks up at him, there’s still the faintest hint of a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Cody, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were more upset about missing the fun than being woken up.”</p><p>It’s difficult not to just put a leash on him, sometimes. Cody tries to center himself, and, in his desperation, pulls on the meditation techniques that Obi-Wan had taught him. He feels calmer after, at least. Or perhaps just more tired.</p><p>“General,” Cody repeats. He hopes he can be forgiven for his harsh tone; he’s running on very little sleep, after all, and he has just discovered that his general has been in danger somewhere without him. Intimidation tactics probably won’t work on the Jedi’s greatest negotiator, but he doesn’t have much else available to him or his mental faculties at 0300 hours.</p><p>At last, Obi-Wan seems to take pity on him, and he motions for Cody to sit down on the still-warm bed. Cody sits warily, bracing for impact.</p><p>“I had a stealth mission from the Jedi Council deep in Carcer’s oil refineries,” Obi-Wan says, and he nods at Cody’s wince. “Yes, exactly. The Council is convinced that the planet itself is not actually a planet—or at least, not a naturally-occurring one. Some intel suggests that it is actually an ancient weapon, long since rusted and forgotten, but one that the Separatists are seeking to access.”</p><p>“You went to discover the truth of these rumors,” Cody says leadingly, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“And was myself discovered,” Obi-Wan admits, and he sighs and runs a hand through his sweat-matted hair. “Unfortunately, I still need to meet with the warrior queen of Carcer tomorrow, and I couldn’t get back to my guest quarters in her fortress after my presence put the guards on high alert. Anakin can stall for me until the morning, but he can’t stall forever.”</p><p>Cody can feel the incoming adrenaline start to wash away some of his fatigue, and his thoughts narrow in on the situation with the pure, cold clarity of an operation.</p><p>“You’ve got a plan, sir, haven’t you?” he asks, leaning forward and already knowing the answer. “What can I do to help?”</p><p>Obi-wan grins at him. “Well, for starters, somewhere to rest for the next few hours would be nice. After that? I’d appreciate a spare set of trooper armor, and, if it’s not too much trouble, a spot on the guard rotation going into the fortress tomorrow.”</p><p>Ten minutes later, Cody finds that he was right: he and Obi-Wan are of a height—and that Obi-Wan doesn’t look half bad as a shiny. He even says as much, unable to stop himself from smiling at how his general doesn’t quite have the muscle necessary to fill out the armor, at how it rattles a little as he moves.</p><p>“100 push-ups, 200 air squats, and 300 sit-ups every morning after we get back,” he tells Obi-Wan, smacking him on the back as he would any new recruit. “You’ll get there in no time, Trooper.”</p><p>Somehow, even with a helmet covering Obi-Wan’s face, Cody knows that he just rolled his eyes. “I’m still your commanding officer, Marshal Commander.”</p><p>“What? I haven’t seen the general since he left for Carcer’s capital,” Cody says cheerfully, and, daring, he reaches up to smudge a finger across the blank white plastic of Obi-Wan’s borrowed bucket. “Besides, you can’t be in command. You haven’t even earned your paint yet.”</p><p>Did he hear Obi-Wan’s breath catch? It was hard to tell through the plastic—and a moot point, besides. Cody steps back.</p><p>“I’ve told the plan to the brothers that you’ll be marching with," he says, easily switching back into professionalism. “They know, but no one else does, and they’ll keep you near the center of their patrol until you’re in a secure area. Waxer has a spare set of your robes in his kit if you need to make a quick change.”</p><p>“As always, you’ve thought of everything, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, and Cody doesn’t think he’s imagining the surge of warmth in the air around him: a sudden feeling of wry appreciation and joy that doesn’t seem like his own.</p><p>“Of course, General,” Cody says, a little off balance. “Come home safe.”</p><p>The general is pulled into the throng of Troopers heading from the Negotiator down to the planet’s surface, and Cody turns back from the landing dock towards crew accommodations. He stops in front of his door, thinking about the concept of ‘home’ and wondering if Obi-Wan thinks Cody had meant the ship—or if he knew, somehow, that Cody had meant something else entirely.</p><p>-—-</p><p>Obi-Wan comes back to both the ship and to Cody’s quarters. Those quarters had very little free space to start with, and now they have less. Cody has recently gained a water-boiler, two chipped orange mugs, and a tea-strainer shaped like an R2-series astromech. In his closet, he has one of Obi-Wan’s spare outer robes and a pair of clean socks two sizes too-small.</p><p>He has no idea what to do about any of it.</p><p>-—-</p><p>“This way, if you please, gentlemen,” Obi-Wan says, and there’s the musical lilt in his voice that he always uses when he anticipates a hard and long debate. “I think this is one discussion that would be best held in my office.”</p><p>Generals Ki-Adi-Mundi and Windu stand with twin sighs; they aren’t looking forward to the argument either. Cody takes a respectful step back and to the left, following at his general’s side while remaining unobtrusive. He isn’t sure if he’s needed for this one, but he hasn’t been dismissed yet, so.</p><p>Between one turn and the next, however, he realizes that Obi-Wan is leading the group in the wrong direction.</p><p>“Sir,” he says, interrupting whatever Obi-Wan is saying about adjustments to the troopers' HUDs to account for emag on Elonia. The other two generals look at him with polite interest, and he quickly improvises. “Sir, you don’t need to accompany me to get the files from my quarters. I’d be happy to retrieve them myself and bring them to your office.”</p><p>If Cody hadn’t been looking for it—hadn’t known exactly where to look—he wouldn’t have seen the surprise roll through Obi-Wan’s shoulders when he realizes where he had been heading.</p><p>“Of course, Cody, thank you,” Obi-Wan says, smiling ruefully. “That would be much more efficient, wouldn’t it? We’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”</p><p>He turns around, apologizing to the other generals for his oversight, and Cody continues down the hallway towards his quarters. There aren’t actually any datapads related to the Elonian mission on his desk, so he takes a few of the ones with relatively non-urgent information at random and sets back off at a jog towards his general.</p><p>“Sirs,” he acknowledges, stepping through the doorway that opens for him automatically. “General Kenobi, here are your reports.”</p><p>“Thank you, Commander,” Obi-Wan says, setting the new datapads on the table beside the others. Cody has no doubt that they will be swapped into the other piles with all the covert speed of a street fair magician swapping a ball beneath red cups. Obi-Wan’s eyes twinkle merrily at him. “You saved us quite the trip. ”</p><p>Cody salutes and takes his leave, and he feels the warmth of Obi-Wan’s gratitude settle across his shoulders as he walks. The firm weight of it seems to straighten his spine. It follows him through third meal in the mess with the 212th, hand-to-hand combat training with Boil, and weapons testing with Wooley. When he emerges from the refresher afterwards with the good kind of exhaustion in his bones, there are two gentle taps on his door.</p><p>“Can I come in?” he hears, and he’s pulling on his blacks as he calls for his general to come through.</p><p>“I must apologize about the situation earlier, Cody,” Obi-Wan says when he enters, holding out a stack of data pads like a peace offering. He looks around Cody’s quarters sheepishly, as if only just now seeing how much of himself has migrated to the meager space. “And, I suppose, about many other situations prior.”</p><p>Cody stands up and moves to where Obi-Wan radiates concern at the center of his room. He puts his hands beneath his general’s and holds them there, not yet moving to pull the data pads away.</p><p>“There’s no need to apologize, General,” he says, and a steady certainty fills every chamber of his heart. What is his is Obi-Wan’s, always. “I am glad to share with you.”</p><p>He knows, now, that Obi-Wan is not reading his mind, because Obi-Wan does not pull his fingers away at the drum beat of <em>mhi me’dinui an, mhi me’dinui an, we will share everything</em>, pounding through his veins. He knows that Obi-Wan is not reading his mind, but he still does not know what his general is thinking, looking at him with those sea-blue eyes that are as calm as Kamino’s ocean never had been.</p><p>“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says, soft and serious, and Cody thinks, just maybe, Obi-Wan heard his meaning after all.</p><p>-—-</p><p>The journey through the dunes is a difficult one, and not just because his knees creak every time he pulls his boots out of the sand, or because the HUD in his bucket is only spitting static, or even because he isn’t exactly sure where he’s going. No; those might be slowing him down, but they haven’t made him stop.</p><p>It is only the barest hint of a house’s silhouette rising up from amidst the monotony of the dunes that makes Cody stop. He has had four weeks in space, two days on an ancient STL shuttle, and, by the reckoning of his sputtering HUD, five hours of walking to plan what to say. He stares, paralyzed, at the doorway that appears between sheets of swirling sand. He was engineered to command armies, and he cannot even command himself.</p><p>He takes one last deep breath of filtered air before taking off his bucket and tossing it into the sand behind him. He takes one step, then one more step, and still another, until he is at the doorway of the little hut. Without any conscious thought, he raises his knuckles to the wood, and he knocks: two soft, gentle taps.</p><p>The door creaks open warily, and Cody finds himself looking at a dear, familiar face, even if it is older, darker, and rougher from the suns and the wind-swept sands. Cody’s heart stutters in his chest to see him alive, and well, and still willing to open his door to the man who tried to have him killed.</p><p>His legs collapse beneath him. He goes to his knees and presses his forehead to the hot sand, not daring to look up when Obi-Wan gasps in surprise. He still doesn't know how to ask for forgiveness, and he is even less certain if he should.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Cody says, because he is. There are tears dripping down his nose into the sand: a terrible waste, on a desert planet. “General. I’m so sorry.”</p><p>“Cody!” Obi-Wan exclaims, and Cody feels more than hears Obi-Wan’s own knees hit the ground in front of him. Hands grasp at his shoulders, pulling him upwards. “Cody, please, sit up. What are you doing here?”</p><p>Cody looks at him helplessly, as helpless as he has ever been in front of those sea-blue eyes, and all he can think is that there’s an awful lot of sand drifting through Obi-Wan’s open door. He doesn’t know the answer to Obi-Wan’s question; he doesn’t think he has any answers, any more. Obi-Wan is still holding onto his shoulders, keeping him upright as they kneel together across the threshold, and at last, Cody thinks he knows what to say.</p><p>He raises his knuckles slowly in the space between them. He taps them twice, softly and gently, on the soft woolen cloth above Obi-Wan’s heart.</p><p>“Can I come in, sir?” he asks, as quietly as he dares amidst the building sandstorm behind him, and Obi-Wan chokes down something between a laugh and a sob. Reaching out, he pulls Cody bodily up and over the threshold into his arms, into his heart, and into the home that they would rebuild together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I <i>just</i> finished speed-running Clone Wars with the help of an extremely dear friend, and these dear boys haven't left my mind since. This is my first foray into Star Wars fandom, so I’d appreciate absolutely any feedback at all. Thank you for reading!</p><p>P.S. Big bonus points if you can tell me which other fandom all of the named planets are from ;)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>